Chester's Mill Today, Panem Tomorrow, Dead Forever
by JustAfraidofSnakes
Summary: Set at the start of S2 of Under the Dome and the beginning of the Hunger Games trilogy. I only own the story. For clarification, the title is a variation of "Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever."
1. Chapter 1: Interference

Big Jim's face held an expression walking the border between panic and anger. "JUNIOR, DO IT _NOW_!"

The dome was transforming from invisible to dauntingly opaque at an alarming rate. By this point, Junior was fully aware that he could pull the lever. He could let Barbie die like his father told him to. And as far as he was concerned at that moment, that was what was going to happen. That was what the cowering, obedient part of his psyche told him, anyway.

Junior went for the lever. In preparation for a time like this, the splintered edges had been sawed off, leaving a smooth uniformed block; but he could still feel the remaining ridges digging into his palm. His nerves were getting the best of him, whether he liked it or not.

The world seemed to be going in slow-mo as Junior felt the muscles in his arm shift, preparing to lift his hand away from the lever, preparing to face what he'd put off for so long.

Then the unfamiliar light went from bright to blinding, and from blinding to nothing.

* * *

Plot bunny #543,280,783,409; I chose you!

Yeah, I figured I'd get this one out of my system. It probably won't go anywhere, and I'm already in the middle of other stories in dire need of finishing, but it's something.

R&R, and I'll continue it.


	2. Chapter 2: Development

The Gamemaker Seneca Crane was like any of his predecessors in the aspect of his origins. He was born and raised in the Capitol, eating Capitol food and wearing Capitol clothes and supporting Capitol ideals. That was what President Snow liked about him; what he hated was his attitude. Crane was clever, but the wrong type of clever. Previous Gamemakers had been cold, calculating, and irrevocably loyal to the President. The only difference in the new one was that he was willing to question his superiors. Reportedly, that's what made him "interesting" and a good choice for Gamemaker, but now it was only a month before the 74th round of the Games, and President Snow was seriously reconsidering his choice.

Crane was too ambitious. But such an attribute could be useful in the upcoming circumstances.

The Capitol was getting bored, and the Districts were getting restless. Seneca Crane told Snow personally that if he was watching the Games, he'd be wanting to see something new, something refreshing. They were in agreement on that, especially after a fascinating report from the technological geniuses in District 3.

Something unheard of since the Dark Days had been developed: Temporal displacement and relocation. An object of any tangible size could be shifted from one point in space-time to another point in the present and vice versa. Tests on paperclips, rodents and lucky lab workers proved that the object in question could be living, dead, or none of the above and still be successfully transported. But it wasn't the small things that Crane was thinking about.

History was a treasure trove of ideas. The original Arena had been based off the coliseums of ancient Rome, which had previously been inaccessible. Then came the new device. This changed everything. Rather than regenerate ruins and risk inauthenticity, the actual stadium could become the grounds for this year's arena. It was Christmas at the Capitol, but Santa still had yet to arrive.

During the Dark Days, nearly all precise records going back that far chronologically had been lost. Under the circumstances, knowledge of antiquities seemed irrelevant. But after a bit of research on his lackeys' parts, Crane found something that would work just as well if not better for the purposes he had in mind.

A coliseum was used conditionally and was faulty in construction. There was something else within his reach that was much more valuable.

In the Township of Chester's Mill, Maine, in what was then known as the United States of America, a transparent dome appeared and cut off all connections with the outside world. No one knew of its origins, and it had no weaknesses, as opposed to the Arena, which was regrettably showing its age. It was too late for repairs, but with this "Dome", they were unnecessary.

When the President recieved the news of both subjects, he showed no outward reaction besides a rare nod of approval and a hollow smile. "It appears as if we'll have some new additions to our Tribute lineup."

* * *

_Looks like our favorite psychotic tyrant has a new toy._

_Remember kids, views make you sexy~_


End file.
